Desert Island Don'ts

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Last week, I stepped up on my parenting cred by keeping Youngest’s 15 year old mostly deaf/mostly blind Shih Tzu who is unneutered for medical reasons and who wears a diaper indoors because he’s also impossible to housetrain. Now Buddy has the virtue of being cute, sleeping a lot (I will too when I’m 105!) and he never pees when on a bed or sofa, so, you know, at least I didn’t have to add in extra laundry to the mix. Except for doing diapers for the first time in 18 years. Thank you, 20 Mule Team Borax.

I discovered something about myself in the eight days Buddy was in my care - as much as I love dogs, four of them is TOO MANY. Too much time dishing out three different foods, too much time getting everyone out and in, too much time making sure those who want cuddles are getting some and those who want to retrieve toys and sticks have the opportunity. Clearly, I was smart when I stopped after child number three.

This got me to thinking about other things I absolutely adore - that can also tip over into Oh, God, no, make it stop! Music is a big item. I seem to have a lifetime limit for most songs, and when I reach it, I’ll turn off the radio/tell Alexa to skip immediately. This put me in conflict with Ross, who was a guy who could listen to Alice’s Restaurant dozens of times on a single car trip to my parent’s house for Thanksgiving! Movies are the same way for me; even the ones I love, love, love I restrict to one viewing a year so i don’t get sick of them. Clearly, I would be a flop at Desert Island Discs. The greatest classical pieces ever would make me stabby if I had to hear them over and over and over again.

What else have I found is too much if too many? Well, ham, obviously. Travel, although it’s going to be some time before I hit my limit on that again. Looking at art - I’ve learned through experience to limit myself to ONE gallery at a museum, otherwise 1) I get blase 2) I get bored 3) I start to pay more attention to my feet hurting. 

How about you, Reds? What are the things and experiences you delight in… in small enough quantities?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: This is hilarious. Yes, the limit thing. I have to says, Julia, once for Alice’s Restaurant is always welcome, and nostalgic, and fun to sing along. Twice, though,  is a big no thanks until next year.  

And thing is, you don’t know you’ve hit the limit until it actually happens. You’re all fine listening to the sound track of A Chorus Line, over and over (in the 1970s) until–stop! No more whining. No matter how relatable and inspirational it is. And “Alexa, SKIP this song” is a refrain around here, too.

And yes, I restrict movies, too. I want to protect My Cousin Vinny, and The Devil Wears Prada, and High Society and The Philadelphia Story.  I wonder, though, about The Godfather. Might that be good no matter how many times?

Finally, I am worried about turkey sandwiches. I truly do NOT want to tire of those.

RHYS BOWEN: I’ve always felt enough is enough. I have friends who played bridge every day after they retired. I could not do that, or even tennis which I love. I keep my favorite music for certain rituals. Mama Mia when we drive from San Francisco to Phoenix. Two Christmas albums that have to be played as I decorate the tree. Die Fledermaus and Les Mis only once  year.

 

I have favorite movies: Enchanted April, Midnight in Paris, Letters to Juliet, the Court Jester when I need cheering up. But I can watch certain British comedies over and over, laughing even though I know all the jokes!

LUCY BURDETTE: Julia, you are a very kind person! I hope you will take me in when I am deaf, blind, and incontinent. I know we will have a good time! And I will only bring two pets. As for getting tired of things, I know not to watch Love Actually more than once a year. I think it’s nearly perfect over that timeframe, but more than that it would get silly and old. Speaking of nearly perfect, have you watched the movie CODA? I watched it with friends and we all absolutely loved it. I am saving it to watch with another friend because I think two times through will be perfect. And one thing I barely ever repeat his books. I know some of you are wonderful rereaders, but I always want to move on to something new. 

 

 

 

HALLIE EPHRON: I confess, I OD’ed on THE WIZARD OF OZ. SINGING IN THE RAIN? Once a year is perfect. And though I adore THE FIFTH ELEMENT, I get about halfway through and turn it off. The Harry Potter movies have now shown up for free on Peacock and I try NOT to turn to one when the rest of TV-land feels like a desert. Besides, the books are better.

Too much potato chips and sour cream/onion dip? That would be a tragedy. 

As for pets, I’m pretty sure zero is the perfect number for me right now.

JENN McKINLAY: My entire life is pet care with three cats, two dogs, and two fish who won’t die, which is fine because they’re the easiest to care for. I said I was done with pets and then another dog appeared…sigh. Sucker, thy name is Jenn. It’s fine, everything is fine.

As for other things that I used to love but am over now. Sun. I used to bake like a cat in the sun, but after the skin cancer on the nose – nope, nope, nope. Also, I get bored just lying there when I used to fall asleep – which is code for “recover from a hangover”. I don’t reread books anymore because my TBR pile gives me stink eye if I don’t diligently chip away at it. I never rewatch TV programs or movies because the childrearing years set me back ten years in pop culture and I’m still catching up. Thankfully, I have yet to hit my limit on baked goods since I just discovered there is a Paris Baguette nearby and their walnut cream infused bun of yummy goodness is delicious enough to make me give up state secrets. 

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I have to say that I am pretty much over big cooking projects. The idea of cooking for a big dinner or a party fills me with existential dread. I am over weekly menu planning, too, but that is not going away unless I actually end up on that desert island!

JULIA: I wish there were food items I was just so over, but I don’t seem to be wired that way, alas. Okay, dear readers, tell us your Desert Island Don’ts!

I've Got A Beef

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Everyone feel nice and warm after yesterday's trip down our childhood memory lanes? Good, because it's been a while since I had a good old beef session on this blog, and I've been saving up annoyances to share with you all, in the hopes that misery loves company. 

 

1. Fuel oil. Oh, my God. Okay, I know the rise in price has been caused by 8 or 9 or 10 different commercial, international and weather events that are vastly beyond my or my oil delivery guy's power to affect. Most of you don't have to interact with the fuel oil industry; only 10% of American homes are heated that way. But 75% of Maine houses rely on that big ol' oil truck pulling up to get 'er done. And you can just imagine how fast my drafty, 200-year-old house goes through the black gold. Texas tea. Etc.

In fact, the thing that really has me cheesed off is my furnace repair guy, Rick. A little over three years ago, the old oil tanks - a joined pair that held 500 gallons - had finally had it and needed to be replaced. I talked over whether to get another 500 gallon behemoth, or the more usual (and cheaper) 275 gallon version. "People used to fill up in the summer and take advantage of the lower price," Rick said, "but oil's been pretty stable year round for a long time now." So I went with the smaller tank. Why didn't you warn me about 7% inflation, Rick???

 

2.Burdocks. Why is it the plants I select, pay for, carefully set in the soil and mulch die before the end of the season, but those G-- D--- burdocks are taking over my property. Actually, that's not true; they aren't everywhere; they only cluster in areas where my dogs like to run back and forth repeatedly, so the impossible-to-remove burrs get stuck in their ears, muzzles, tails, legs, and in one memorable case, up where the sun don't shine. Yes, my daughter and I had to perform a burr-ectomy on Rockie's butt. There hasn't been a spot of green on my property for months (except for the Christmas tree I still haven't loaded up to take to the town dump) but those burdocks poke their dead dried heads above the frozen snow like a horde of zombies in The Walking Dead.

 

3.Is it "Keev" or "Key-yev?" Okay, this may be very niche. We're all worried about the situation in Ukraine, I'm sure, and I've been hearing quite a bit about it on NPR which is where I get most of my news (and entertainment. And weather forecasts. And tote bags.) Anyway, I've noticed  a new pronunciation creeping in: reporters who refer to the capital city of the country as "Keev."

Say what? Let me tell you, on the NPR classical station, when the announcers talk about Mussgorsky's Pictures at an Exhibition, they say "The Great Gates of Key-yev." Is it Key-yev? Is it Keev? I'm really hoping it's not the latter, because I only managed to stop saying "THE Ukraine" a few years ago. I still get confused with Siam and Thailand and Ceylon and Sri Lanka. I'm all set with Istanbul, though, thanks.

4. Bridgerton. Whyyyy do I have to wait almost a month for the second season of Bridgerton?!? Ted Lasso's not going to be out until the latter half of 2022, and I don't think they've even hinted at a drop date for the next season of Only Murders in the Building. In fact, my relationship with all our streaming services seems to be: wait with impatient longing to get a show I'm dying to see, binge it down within a week, and then wait a year or longer for the next season. (Side grouse: when did six episodes become a season? I remember when you got twenty-two new episodes a year with TV shows! Now get off my lawn.)

We have, paid for by different family members, HBO Max, Netflix, Disney+, Apple TV, Amazon Prime and Hulu. And between the lot, there's only one show a month I'm every actually interested in. Verily, the Golden Age of TV has feet of clay.

 

5.Ham. You probably do not have an issue with ham, dear reader, and until recently, I didn't either. I love ham. So twelve days ago, when I found a local store was selling spiral cut ham for $0.99 per pound, I grabbed one. I rooted around and got the smallest one I could find - about eleven pounds. It didn't look too big. And it smelled so good in the oven. Tasted like heaven!

But the only people eating this ham are me, and my young friend and temporary lodger Samantha. The meals have gone like this:

1st night: Ham, baked potatoes, green peas. Happiness.

2nd day: Ham sandwiches. Yummy.

2nd night: More ham. At least it's easy.

3rd day: Ham sandwich with fried egg to add a kick.

3rd night: Pasta with ham.

4th day: Ham on leftover cornbread.

4th night: Scalloped potatoes with ham.

5th day: Ham and despair. 

And so on. Dear readers, I still have almost half a ham left! I may be forced to learn how to grind and pot meat just to do something with the rest of it. I just wanted sliced ham and a sandwich the next day, and instead I've entered some sort of Sisyphean existence where every day I roll a ham up a tall hill and every morning it's back at the bottom of the fridge, as large as ever.

But I have faith; someday, I'll be down to the bone, and then it will finally be time for homemade bean soup. Of course, it's a big bone, so it will have to be a very big pot of soup...

Dear readers, what's been driving you bonkers lately?